What You See
by TinkerBella7
Summary: Callen comes to see who Deeks really is.


Sleepless nights were par for the course, but that didn't make Callen like them any better. Tonight was one of those nights where he was too restless to focus on anything long enough to accomplish much of anything. So taking something apart or working on a new language were out of the question. On nights like this, Callen always ended up back at the mission.

He slipped inside, dropping his duffle bag on his desk. He figured an hour long, intense, work out might wear him out enough to catnap off and on before work. He might get two, maybe three, hours in. But before he could make his way to the gym, he got sidetracked by the glimmer of light that was coming from the firing range.

There hadn't been any other vehicles in the parking lot, so Callen assumed he would find Hetty inside the range, but when he peeked through the window, it was Deeks who caught his attention. Moving quietly, Callen slipped inside and found a position where he could observe the Detective.

To Callen's surprise, the younger man was using his left hand to fire his weapon. And, to his further surprise, he was making cluster shots in both the heart and the head. Precision shooting. Only Deeks was right-handed.

When the clip was empty, Deeks set his gun down and removed his headset. Not surprisingly, he whirled around to face Callen, blue eyes taking in the workout clothes. He cocked a blond eyebrow, but didn't make a comment as he turned back to his target.

"Impressive shooting," Callen said, moving to stand beside the taller man. "I didn't know you were ambidextrous."

"I'm pretty sure there's a lot you don't know about me," Deeks countered, sounding slightly bitter and maybe a little bit resigned.

Callen wasn't about to deny it. As team leader, he may not have picked Deeks to be a part of his team, but he had studied all the information Hetty made available to him. Which wasn't all that much, really. And, to be fair, Callen hadn't really felt the need to dig deeper. If Hetty wanted Deeks as the NCIS liason, then so be it. He would trust her judgement. And, so far, Deeks had proven his worth. He definitely walked to the beat of his own drum, but he more than held his own, despite not being trained as an agent.

Sensing that Deeks was waiting for him to say something, Callen decided to shock him a little. "You've got me there," he allowed. "Although I have to say that some of the things I do know are very...intriguing."

"Like what?" Deeks demanded. He turned to face Callen, suspicion glimmering in his blue eyes.

"Like the fact that you were a stripper," Callen announced, and he grinned as he watched shock, disbelief and astonishment all flicker across the detectives face, but it was irritation that settled there.

Huffing out a breath Deeks spit out, "I worked as an exotic dancer! Not a stripper."

Callen crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "There's a difference?"

"Why are you here?" Deeks shot back, obviously not willing to talk about the topic any further.

"Why are you here?" Callen countered. "I'm the one with chronic insomnia."

Instead of replying, Deeks turned back to his gun. He removed the clip and began to disassemble it before picking up a soft cloth and carefully wiping down each piece before putting it back together.

Callen was content to watch, noting that Deeks was just as meticulous and efficient as Sam was. Deciding he wanted to learn more about the Detective, he prompted, "I'm guessing exotic dancing pays well?"

"It does," Deeks allowed. He finished putting his gun back together. Buffing it one last time, he tucked it into the small of his back and turned to face Callen. "Law school isn't cheap and the tips were good. I made more in one night of dancing that I did waiting tables for a week." He was smiling but there was a subtle edge of defensiveness in his tone.

"I'm not judging you, Deeks," Callen replied. "I'm just curious."

Deeks looked amused. "You must be bored. I won't keep you from your workout," he said, pointedly, before collecting his cleaning rag and heading for the door.

Callen was hot on his heels, following Deeks out to the bullpen. "How long have you been here?"

"Does it matter?" Deeks moved to sit at his desk, opening his laptop.

"What are you doing?" Callen stood behind Deeks, watching him sign in and bring up a police report.

Deeks heaved a dramatic sigh, before shifting in a way that was meant to block Callen's view. "It's called working. I'm pretty sure you've heard of it."

Chuckling, Callen sat down in Sam's chair. He knew what Deeks was doing. Deflecting. "Did you even go home tonight?"

"It's already tomorrow," Callen reminded him.

Deeks shrugged. "Your point being?"

Callen shrugged back at him. "Don't really have one. So...why couldn't you sleep? Too much caffeine?" Which wouldn't really have been a surprise, because the detective seemed to mainline coffee on a daily basis.

"Probably," Deeks mumbled, turning back to his laptop and attempting to type again.

"How long?" Callen asked, as he studied the younger man. Now that he was looking for them, he could see the signs. Deeks had dark circles under his eyes, he was nearly vibrating with tension and Callen was surprised to realize he'd lost weight again. Weight he couldn't afford to lose, since he hadn't really gotten back to his fighting weight after being tortured. "Deeks," he prompted, when the silence between them dragged on and became heavy with tension.

Body going rigid, Deeks stood up and rounded on Callen. "Look, you're not my mother, my keeper, or my friend. So let's shut this party down before it even gets started. Okay? I'm good. I'm having a little trouble winding down tonight. No big deal. Going without sleep for one night won't hurt me."

Callen nodded. He knew that. Just like he knew that they weren't really friends. He hadn't expected Deeks to be so blunt about it. However, that didn't change the fact that Deeks was a member of his team and Callen was worried about him. Between dealing with the aftermath of being tortured and now his partner being gone for weeks, Deeks had been dealt a rough hand for the past six months. "I know we're not close," he conceded. "But that doesn't stop me from being worried."

"I can do my job!" Deeks interjected, glaring at Callen. Obviously misunderstanding his concern.

"I know that," Callen was quick to reassure him. He wasn't surprised that Deeks reacted this way. Not so very long ago Callen had expressed concern that he wasn't ready and able to do his job yet. But the detective had proved him wrong. "It's not about doing your job. Not yet. It's about taking care of yourself."

Deeks snorted. "I've been doing that for a very long time. And, contrary to popular belief, I do a good job of it."

Callen couldn't help but laugh. He watched Deeks' face and the detective looked amused, not angry. At least for the moment. "We all go through rough patches," he began, not really knowing where he was heading. "I just...I've been there and done that. I'd like to help, if I can."

"Gonna hold my hand?" Deeks countered, smirking.

"Funny." Callen was glad to see Deeks smiling, but it wasn't the usual bright grin that would light up the Detective's entire face. Callen had always admired that about Deeks. His ability to find humor in most things. The way he would get knocked down by life and bounce back up again. How he was passionate about things and didn't let anything stop him from feeling what he was feeling.

Turning away, Deeks focused on his laptop again, the grin fading. "Look, neither of us like talking about our feelings. I appreciate the offer, but...I'm fine. Okay?"

It wasn't. Callen felt it was important to make sure that Deeks really was fine. "What you did tonight. Going undercover as an arms dealer. I know it wasn't easy for you, but you did a great job."

"Whoa...you must think I'm ready for a meltdown or something!" It was Deeks' turn to look concerned as he studied Callen.

"What do you mean?" Callen couldn't hide his confusion.

Deeks shrugged. "You're giving me a big pat on the back for a job well done. You don't do that. So what gives? I'm doing my job. Why the sudden concern? Do you know something I don't know? And, for the record, undercover work is what I'm good at. So it wasn't a big deal. It's what I do."

Callen suddenly realized he was out of his depth here and floundering. To be honest, he wasn't sure why he was so worried about Deeks all of the sudden. The detective was tougher than they tended to give him credit for, without a doubt. He had gotten shot, left his hospital bed and saved Kensi. He would whine about a paper cut, but not say a word after taking a beating. He'd been tortured and gotten right back up and saved Sam and Michelle again. You could knock Deeks down, but you couldn't keep him down. So why was now different? Callen realized that both he and Deeks were waiting for the answer to that.

"I'm not good at talking about things," Callen allowed.

"And I'm okay with that," Deeks interjected, cutting Callen off at the pass. "Let's just leave well enough alone. Deal?"

Heaving a sigh of frustration, Callen nodded. For now, he'd settle for keeping a closer eye on Deeks and, if something more needed to be done, he would mention his concerns to Sam. Once upon a time, things had been tense between his partner and the detective. But after the Siderov incident, things had changed. Sam had come to respect Deeks. They still had their moments and continued to taunt one another, but along the way Sam had become more protective, taking on a *Big Brother* type of role. If Deeks needed help, Sam would help him.

Looking relieved, Deeks turned his focus back to his laptop. "I hear the gym calling your name," he sing-songed.

"I hear it too." Callen grabbed his gym bag, but paused to shake a finger at Deeks. "You'd better be gone with I get back."

"Yes, Dad," Deeks drawled, laughing.

Callen gave him the finger, but he was grinning as he headed to the gym. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with Deeks. So he was all the more determined to keep an eye on him.

The rest of the week went smoothly enough. Callen didn't catch Deeks at the mission again after hours, although he knew that didn't mean he wasn't having more rough nights. It just meant the detective was smart enough not to get caught again. He still looked tired when he came in the next two days, but he did his job, acted normal and didn't set off any warning bells.

On Friday, Hetty sent them off for the weekend and Callen took a trip to the wine country. He met a nice woman, spent a fun night with her and returned to work on Monday with a smile on his face. For the next ten minutes Callen kept Sam guessing as to why he was smiling, until Deeks showed up. The Detective looked rested and happy as he handed Sam a bran muffin and Callen a bacon, cheddar and egg breakfast sandwich.

"Thanks, Deeks," Sam said, accepting his muffin with a smile.

"Yeah, thanks," Callen echoed, digging right into his sandwich. He took a big bite, chewed happily and swallowed. It was then he noticed Deeks only had a coffee. "Where's your breakfast?" he queried, gesturing to Deek's empty desktop.

Deeks held up his coffee. "I ate before I got here."

Sam looked amused. "Ate what? Twinkies?"

"Maybe," Deeks drawled, making a face at Sam. When the bigger man looked ready to give him a lecture, Deeks waved him off and said, "For your information I had red-velvet pancakes with creamcheese icing. " He closed his eyes for a moment, looking blissed out, before whispering, "To die for."

"You might as well just drink a glassful of saturated fats," Sam countered, looking disgusted. "That stuff will kill you!"

Deeks shrugged. "I'll die happy."

Callen nodded. "Amen." He toasted Deeks with his sandwich. "Where did you get them?"

"I'll bring you some tomorrow," Deeks promised, smirking as he remained secretive about the place.

"You're both going to regret it," Sam muttered, glaring at the both of them over his Bran muffin. "Trust me. You are what you eat."

Deeks grinned. "Then I am absolutely fabulous!"

Callen chuckled, before making an over dramatic show of enjoying his breakfast sandwich. It was delicious and he enjoyed every mouthful. He had just finished up when Eric whistled.

"We've got a case," he called out, from the top of the stairs.

"Coming," Sam replied, rising from his seat and heading for the stairs.

Deeks beat him there. "Slowing down in your old age?" he taunted, before speeding off out of Sam's reach.

Callen enjoyed the show, patting Sam on the shoulder as he joined him. The moment they were all gathered in OPS, Nell filled them in.

The wife of a Naval Intelligence Officer had been kidnapped six hours ago. The Officer, Neal Braverman, hadn't realized his wife had been taken until his daughter, Jenna's, school had called him to say Mrs. Braverman hadn't come to pick Jenna up yet. Before he could hang up and try to call her, he'd gotten a phone call from his wife. She was hysterical and pleading with him to save her.

The kidnappers hadn't asked for money, instead they wanted intel on a mission called Red. Information that Braverman did not have access too. When he'd told them that, they'd replied that he had 8 hours to get the information. At which time they'd call back and tell him where to meet them. If they didn't get the information, his wife would die and they would send him the video of her death in real time.

The team spent six hours tracking down Red and discovering it was a highly classified mission, to which not even Hetty could get information on. Until Callen recognized the name of an ex CIA agent he had worked with seven years ago. They tracked him down and learned that RED had involved Russia and a Naval officer turned double agent. Working off that information, Hetty worked with Nell and Eric to create a file that Braverman could offer to the kidnappers.

That done, they had two hours to wait for the kidnappers to call Braverman to set up the meet. So Callen had gone on a food run, bringing back Chinese. He handed everyone their favorite, taking note of the fact that Deeks had set his aside in favor of pouring over one of the files Nell and Eric had uncovered.

"Eat, Deeks," Callen prompted him. It hadn't slipped his attention that the Detective looked thinner than he had just a few days ago.

"Yep." Deeks didn't even look up, until Callen snatched the file away. "Hey!" he protested, reaching out to try and snag it back.

Callen tossed it on his own desk. "Eat first. It's going to be a long night."

Deeks mock glared at Callen, but made a show of picking up a fork and digging into his Chinese. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Callen conceded, smiling when Deeks rolled his eyes at him.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked him, thirty minutes later in the firing range.

Callen pretended not to know what his partner was talking about. "What are you talking about?" He dismantled his gun, cleaning each piece with care. Nothing could go wrong tonight.

Sam sighed, but played along. "You're worried about Deeks. Why? Is there something I should know?"

"I'm just making sure we're all on top of our game." Callen locked eyes with his partner. "There's a lot at risk tonight."

"Par for the course in our line of work," Sam countered, not letting Callen off the hook. "What's really going on, G?"

Silence hung between them for a long moment, as Callen wrestled with what to say. He trusted Sam in every way, but he wasn't sure why he felt so concerned about Deeks and he didn't want to make waves where their were none. Sam and Deeks had conquered the demons between them, developing a stronger relationship because of what had happened with Siderov. Callen did not want to rock that boat in any way.

But Sam wasn't backing down. "Maybe I should go talk to Deeks?"

"No...there's nothing to talk about." Callen went back to cleaning his gun, hoping Sam would drop it.

"For the past few days you've been watching Deeks," Sam countered. "I'm guessing it's because he's lost weight and he trying to hide the fact he's not sleeping well."

Callen hadn't expected Sam to say that. He didn't hide his surprise as he replied, "You noticed?"

Sam's expression conveyed just how stupid he thought that question was. "Obviously I noticed. I worry about him too, G. But Deeks is tough. Tougher than I ever gave him credit for. We all have bad days. He's going through a rough patch, but he's getting through it. He's doing his job."

"I know that." Callen focused on putting his gun back together and loading a new clip. Since Sam seemed to know everything, he figured this conversation was over and he was relieved.

"You feel guilty." Sam tossed the words out like a challenge.

They hit Callen like a punch in the gut, because he knew what Sam was saying and damn the man for reading him too well. He wanted to deny it, but there was no point. Maybe if he confessed, Sam would drop it. "My actions with Janvier put everyone in danger. You could have died. You and Deeks almost did die. " That was as close as he was gonna get to admitting, out loud, that he sometimes felt like he was drowning in guilt.

"But we didn't die," Sam reminded him. "Thanks to Deeks. He's going to be okay, G. We're watching out for him."

"I know." Callen was ready to end this conversation. "Want to grab Deeks and shoot a few hoops?" They had gone over all the details for the meet to come with Braverman handing off the information to the kidnappers. All they could do now was kill time.

Sam nodded. "Prepare to go down."

Callen grinned. "Feeling lucky?"

"Lucky enough to take on you and Deeks two on one," Sam replied, oozing cool confidence.

"Bet a steak dinner?" Callen challenged, holding out his hand. They shook and headed out to grab the Detective.

It was the last quiet moment they were going to get that night. The call came in and the exchange was arranged for 9pm at a down Soccer stadium, thirty minutes outside of LA. The stadium was closed for renovations, which meant it was under construction and filled with the tools of the trade, along with scaffoldings and catwalks and more places for the bad guys to hide than Callen was comfortable with.

After checking that Braverman was set to enter the arena with the file, Callen spoke with the rest of his team. He looked at Sam. "You want to go high or low?"

"High," Sam replied. "I'll find a sniper point in the east end. I should be able to keep a close eye on our kidnappers."

"Good." Callen was pleased. "I'll cover Braverman." He turned to the detective. "Deeks, keep an eye on Jenna Braverman. If the opportunity presents itself, get her out of there."

Deeks nodded. "Got it." He made to head off to find the perfect hiding spot.

Callen watched him go, feeling a prickle of worry. Something didn't feel right. Callen always trusted his instincts and his gut feeling was telling him that something was off. He wished like hell he could put his finger on it, but they were under the gun and the clock was ticking. Time to take his position and hope the exchange went smoothly.

Surpisingly, things went down exactly as planned. Five men showed up. The leader of the group and four body guards with guns. Two of them held Jenna Braverman between them. Lt. Braverman played his part well, offering the file then moving to take his wife into his arms.

Not so surprisingly, the leader ordered his men to shoot them both, but Deeks appeared, taking down one guard, while Sam took out two others with sniper shots. Deeks got the Braverman's to safety, even as he took out another guard. Sam dispatched the other one, leaving Callen free to go after the leader and the briefcase with the file. The guy had taken off the moment the shooting started, leading Callen on a chase through the stadium that ended in the center of the arena.

Wanting to take the guy alive, Callen clipped him in the shoulder, the shot sending the bad guy to the ground, bleeding. Moving cautiously, Callen made his way over with the intention to cuff him. But just then he found himself tackled to the ground even as a gunshots exploded around him. He felt the body over him jerk in reaction, grunting in pain. He recognized the voice. Deeks.

Two more shots rang out in quick succession, then Sam was calling his and Deeks' names. Callen was about to push the Detective off him, when Deeks rolled to the side. Callen sat up as Sam reached them, staring between his partner, the bad guy - who was still moaning on the ground - and Deeks.

The detective was moving slowly, stumbling his way to his feet. He stared at Callen. "You okay?" he asked, sounding anxious and breathless.

"What the hell are you doing?" Callen demanded, feeling like he was missing something.

"Sniper," Sam replied, pointing to the cat walk. "I was coming down and I saw Deeks running like a bat out of hell and firing shots. I spotted the sniper just as Deeks tackled you."

Callen was stunned, but managed to ask, "You got him?" He knew the answer but he needed to hear it.

Sam nodded. "I got him." He looked past Callen to Deeks then surged forward to grab the Detective by the arm when he stumbled. "Sit down, Deeks." Sam lowered him to the ground.

"Shit!" Deeks hissed, hunching over. He cradled his right side with one arm and his breathing was rapid and shallow.

"Let me see." Sam was already reaching for the straps on Deeks' Kevlar vest.

Callen crouched down beside them, reaching out to help, but flinching back when felt warm wetness on his fingertips. He stared at his hand. Blood. "You're bleeding." He heard the accusation in his voice.

Sam had the vest off and was easing Deeks' tee shirt up. "Dammit!"

"Ow!" Deeks tried to pull away as Sam pressed a hand over his ribs and abdomen. He stared down at the smear of red on his skin. "Figures I'd get the faulty vest," he joked, obviously wanting to diffuse the tension.

"Three shots in the vest," Callen said, studying the bullets. "Cop killers. If the sniper had been closer, you'd be dead." He almost recited the information, tonelessly, the implications just now hitting him like a sledgehammer. Deeks had protected him from being hit by a sniper. On the one hand he was grateful, but on the other hand he was pissed. What the hell was Deeks thinking?

Deeks tried to push Sam's hand away, despite the fact that he was bleeding. "Guess it's my lucky day," he whispered, unable to hide the pain from his voice. Unaware of Callen's sudden anger.

Sam looked at Callen. "Call for an ambulance."

"No!" Deeks protested. "No ambulance. Just slap a bandaid on it. I'm fine. I'm barely bleeding."

"It's not the blood I'm worried about," Sam countered, not letting Deeks get up like he wanted. "I'm betting you've got a few cracked ribs, maybe some internal bruising. You're not wrong about it being your lucky day."

Callen wanted to comment on that, but he focused on pulling out his phone to call for the ambulance. Only to hear Hetty in his ear wig.

She sounded worried. "The ambulance is already on it's way, Mr. Callen. And you will go and get checked out, Mr. Deeks. Mr. Hanna, I assume everything is secure."

"It's all good, Hetty," Sam assured her. "I'm sure you already know that the Braverman's are safe and on their way to the hospital. The Briefcase is on it's way back to you as we speak."

"Good." Hetty sounded relieved. "Take good care of Mr. Deeks and keep me updated." With that, she signed off.

Callen felt suddenly off-balanced. He stared at the vest in his hand, then he looked at Deeks, who was wincing in pain, and Callen felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

Deeks was being stubborn, as usual. "I need to stand up," he told Sam, trying to do just that. "It's hard to breathe like this," he protested, when the Navy Seal refused to let him get to his feet.

"I'll watch for the ambulance," Callen announced, as he watched Sam help Deeks to stand up. The Detective looked pale and his tee shirt was turning red, and the sight of him shook Callen to his core. He felt angry and scared and unbalanced and that bothered him even more. So he turned and almost ran outside, just as the ambulance arrived.

"I really don't need an ambulance." Deeks voice sounded behind Callen, before the EMT's could reach them. He turned and was surprised to see the Detective making his way towards them, Sam hovering protectively beside him. "Why is he out here?" Callen snapped at his partner.

Deeks was the one who replied. "*He* is right here and is perfectly capable of walking. And *He* does not want to go to the hospital."

Sam snorted. "Well *he* doesn't have a choice in the matter. Do you seriously want to go against Hetty's wishes?"

"No he does not." Hetty's voice was loud and clear over all of their ear wigs.

"Crap," Deeks muttered, yanking his ear wig out. But he gave in when Sam and the EMT's hustled him into the ambulance.

Callen stood just outside. "Sam, go with Deeks to the hospital," he ordered.

Deeks had been pressed down onto the gurney and the EMT's were checking out the bleeding, the bruising and assessing his overall condition. Those actions did not impede the Detective's ability to argue, despite being in obvious pain. "I don't need a babysitter," he protested. "Besides which, I am NOT going to the hospital." He whispered the last word as if Hetty could still hear him, despite having removed his earwig.

"You need x-rays," countered one of the EMT's. "So you're going."

"Don't argue, Shaggy," Sam stated, ruffling the Detective's golden mop, affectionately. "Just accept the inevitable."

Mouth open to argue, Deeks shut it with a snap when one of the EMT's pressed down on his ribs with a gauze pad, intending to stop the bleeding. He went pure white and the only sound to escape him was a whimper.

The sound was like a knife to Callen's heart. Why this was affecting him so much he didn't know, but he felt sick. He let the other EMT nudge him back as he climbed out to shut the door.

"We're going to Pacific Heights," he announced, before slipping into the driver's seat.

"Okay," Callen replied, even though he was alone. He watched the Ambulance pull away and simply stood there. He didn't move an inch until Hetty's voice spoke in his ear.

She sounded sad. "Go be with your team, Mr. Callen."

He didn't reply, but he did get into his car to follow the ambulance.

Callen didn't go straight inside. Instead he parked in the hospital parking lot and started running. He ran for almost an hour, feeling exhausted and heavy when he returned to his car. He pulled his go bag out of the back and poured a water bottle over his head before grabbing a towel to dry off. He then rolled on some deodorant before pulling on a clean shirt. His focus was better, but Callen still felt edgy and tight. Wired.

Heading inside, he found Sam sitting in the waiting room, thumbing through a magazine. "How's Deeks?" Callen got straight to the point.

"They took his straight into x-ray. He has two cracked ribs, heavy bruising in his abdomen, and a few stitches," Sam replied, as he set the magazine aside and took a good look at his partner. He didn't seem to like what he saw.

"So he's going to be okay?" That's what Callen needed to hear.

Sam nodded. "They're keeping him over night to watch for infection and to push some fluids. He's dehydrated and the Doctor is concerned that Deeks is exhausted and underweight. I told him enough to let him know he's had a rough few months and we're aware and working on it."

That was exactly what Callen did not want to hear. "When can we see him?"

"In a few minutes." Sam pointed down the hall. "They're getting him settled into a room. Last one on the left. The nurse said she'd come get me when they're done."

"Right." Callen wasn't about to wait. He turned on his heel and strode down the hallway to Deeks' room. He heard Sam call after him, but he didn't stop. As he reached for the door knob, the door opened, the nurse who was about to step out looked surprised to see him.

She looked over his shoulder and must have seen Sam, because she relaxed and smiled. "Mr. Deeks is ready for visitors, but keep it short." With that she stepped around him and walked towards the nurses station.

Callen stepped into the room and headed straight for Deeks. The Detective looked pale against the white sheets and he was hooked up to an IV. Callen zeroed in. "What the hell were you thinking?" he snarled, anger rushing over him in a crushing wave.

"What?" Deeks looked exhausted, still in pain, but now he was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You could have died!" Callen shook a finger in Deeks' face. "All you had to do was warn me! I was wearing a vest!" He was so angry his words were stumbling into one another.

Deeks looked just as angry as he pushed himself upright. "The sniper was going for a head shot!" he snapped back. "You don't wear Kevlar on your head! And you're WELCOME!" Obviously pissed, Deeks attempted to get out of the bed, maybe to slug Callen. But he was thwarted by Sam, who grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him down.

Sam glared at Callen, then turned his attention back to Deeks. "You need to calm down, okay? You're going to do more damage if you don't. Callen's not worth it."

That got an almost smile out of Deeks, who relaxed against the pillows, the tension easing as pain won out over anger. "I'm good," he whispered, shifting and wincing, as he tried to get comfortable.

"Do you need the nurse?" Sam asked, concern on his face as he released Deeks and smoothed the blankets back over him. He had years of practice, tucking his kids in.

"I'm fine." Deeks was breathing shallowly, one hand pressed to his ribs, color slowly seeping back into his pale face.

Sam patted him on the shoulder, "I'm going to have them check on you anyway."

Deeks shook his head, fingers picking at the tape that held down the IV needle on the back of his left hand. "Don't. I'm good. Really."

"Okay." Sam studied him a moment then nodded. "I'll be right back." That said he turned to Callen, grabbing him by the arm and hustling him out of the room. He didn't slow down until they reached an empty room down the hall where he closed the door and shoved Callen into the wall.

"I know what you're going to say," Callen interjected, as he pushed away from the wall. He felt old and tired and unsettled and he really didn't want to deal with Sam right now. He wanted to drink whiskey and sleep. Not necessarily in that order.

Sam stood in front of him, arms crossed, face stern. "I don't think you do," he ground out. When Callen opened his mouth to protest, Sam gestured for him to zip it. "You're going to be quiet and listen to me," he stated.

Knowing how stubborn Sam was, Callen nodded. He would let his partner say his piece, then it would be his turn. He made a gesture to let Sam know he had the floor.

"Just for the record, Deeks did the right thing." Sam's first words brought Callen's washing back over him.

"Bullshit!" Callen glared at his partner. "He could have died, Sam! I was wearing a vest. He could have yelled for me to get down or something. He didn't have to play shield and take three cop killer bullets for me! And what the hell was he doing back inside anyway? He was supposed to be getting the Braverman's out to safety!" Callen was on a roll now and his fear was like a wild horse that had been spooked, trampling over him so that he couldn't stop himself if he tried.

Sam gripped him by the shoulders and shook him. "Deeks got the Braverman's to safety. He came back in to watch our backs. That's what we do, G. We watch each other's backs. And let me get it through your thick skull." As he spoke, Sam thumped Callen in the forehead with one finger. "If Deeks hadn't come back in, if he hadn't tackled you...you would have died tonight. When he started shooting, I saw the sniper. He had you nailed in a head shot. I wasn't in position to take him out and neither was Deeks. If he hadn't knocked you down you...would...be...dead! Do you understand what I'm telling you? Dead, G."

It was starting to sink in and the reality of it left Callen feeling a bit weak in the knees. He could have died and Deeks had risked his life to save him. The issue was that Deeks ended up being the one who almost died tonight, and Callen couldn't accept that. "I hear you, Sam. I do." He pushed his partner off him and began pacing. "But it's not okay for Deeks to risk his own life for mine. You know?"

"I know what you're saying, but that's not how it works, G." Sam looked resigned. "Here's the thing. What's done is done and it was a good day. The Braverman's are safe, the bad guys are behind bars and we're all alive. Win win. So you need to let go of whatever this is that's eating at you. You need to go back into Deeks' room and thank him for saving your life tonight. He did good, G. I told him that in the ambulance. Now you need to tell him that. Okay?

"Okay." Callen knew Sam was right, but he couldn't just shake it off. He was still angry, but he got what Sam was saying. And he realized that he had taken his anger out on Deeks without knowing the whole story. Now he knew the detective had done his job and done the right thing, and it was time to tell him that.

Sam looked pleased as he guided Callen back out of the room. "I'll wait here for you." He gave his partner an not so gentle shove down the hall.

Callen grimaced, but made his way back to Deeks' room. And, once again, he met the nurse on the way out. "Is Deeks okay?" he asked, concerned that something had happened while he and Sam were hashing things out.

"He's fine," the nurse replied, smiling. "He was in a lot of pain so I gave him something to help him sleep. He should stay out until morning."  
"Oh...good." Callen was relieved. "He's being released in the morning, right?"

The nurse shrugged. "That depends on the doctor. He'll reassess him. He was concerned with a few overall health issues and he wants to discuss them with Mr. Deeks before releasing him."

Callen knew Deeks would not be pleased. "He's been through a lot these past few months." For some reason, Callen felt the need to defend the detective. "He's working through it."

"Of course." The nurse looked confused, but she was agreeable. "Would you like to see him before you leave?"

"I'm going to stay with him tonight," Callen countered, flashing his badge. "Just to be on the safe side."

The nurse looked worried. "He's not in any danger, is he?"

Callen shook his head. "No. But it was a rough night and I don't want him to be alone."

"You're a good friend," she replied, looking pleased. "I'll let the staff know you're staying. I'll check on him again in a couple of hours. Just hit the call button if you need anything."

"Will do. Thanks." Callen forced a smile as he stepped back to let her leave. He gestured to Sam to join him and updated him. A peek in the room confirmed that Deeks was sound asleep. "Go home, Sam. I'll call Hetty and tell her I'm staying."

Sam nodded. "Call me if you need anything." With a clap on the shoulder, he left Callen to his babysitting duty.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Callen entered the room. He studied the sleeping detective for a moment, taking note of how young Deeks looked in slumber. The stress of the say fading away. Callen smiled to himself, knowing what it was like to have a baby face. Also knowing that Deeks kept the scruff not so much for undercover work, but because it made him look a bit closer to his actual age.

Since Deeks looked to sleep the night through, Callen made himself comfortable in the corner chair. He pulled out his phone and called Hetty, letting her know he was staying with Deeks.

"Try to get some sleep," Hetty advised him. "Keep me updated on what the doctor says and let Mr. Deeks know he has the next two days off, regardless of whether they release him or not."

"I'll do that," Callen replied. "Goodnight, Hetty."

She was silent for a moment, then she said softly. "Goodnight, Mr. Callen. And remember that today was a good day."

Leave it to Hetty to echo Sam's words. She probably had been listening in on their conversation somehow. "I'll do that," he promised, before hanging up and sliding his phone back in his pocket. Shifting into a comfortable position, Callen tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He knew he wouldn't sleep, but he could try and rest a bit.

But not for long. Less than an hour passed before Deeks became restless. Then next thing Callen knew, the blond Detective was sitting up, trying to get out of bed, begging someone not to hurt her.

"Deeks!" Callen was up and approaching the younger man with caution.

But Deeks couldn't hear him. He was too caught up in whatever nightmare had hold of him. He was twisting against the blankets that trapped his legs, yanking out the IV line as he fought against imaginary enemies. Face pale, skin sheened in sweat, shaking.

Callen knew those dreams all too well. He knew he couldn't just wake Deeks up without scaring him. Only Deeks forced his next move. The detective was out of bed, backing into a corner, eyes wide-open, staring at something only he could see. He was whispering something but as Callen moved closer to try and hear him, to help him, the door opened and a nurse entered.

She took stock of the situation and moved towards Deeks, but Callen waved her back. He moved quietly to her and ushered her back out.

"I've got this," he told her. "He'll be okay. I'll get him back in bed then call you. It's just a nightmare."

"Okay." She nodded but didn't move away from her spot just outside the door.

Moving back into the room, Callen crept closer to Deeks, who was still mumbling. He crouched in front of the Detective, who had folded himself into the corner, body shaking like a leaf. Now that he could hear what Deeks was saying, Callen felt like he'd been slapped in the face.

Arms locked around his knees, rocking slightly, Deeks whispered, "Not the weak one...not the weak one..." over and over again.

"Deeks," Callen said his name softly, carefully reaching out and lightly touching his knee. Not surprisingly, Deeks lashed out at him, but Callen was ready. He moved to the side, but at the same time he pressed one hand to Deeks upper chest, the other hand gripping his bicep. Grounding him. "Deeks, it's Callen!" He spoke loudly and precisely.

"What?" Body freezing, Deeks looked at Callen, blinking furiously, relaxing against the wall a heartbeat later as he recognized him. Only to swear under his breath as he realized where he was and what must have happened. And like a like switch being flicked off, the detective's expression and demeanor changed. He gathered up his shields and put them firmly back into place.

Callen said nothing, there was nothing he could say. He simply stood up and held out a hand. It was up to Deeks to accept the help or not.

But Deeks was nothing, if not stubborn. He pushed himself out of the corner, grimacing and wobbling, as he rose to his feet. He was wearing a gown and pajama bottoms, but both were thin and he was shivering. But he just stood there, glaring at Callen. "What time is it?"

"About one am," Callen replied, glancing at his watch. "You okay?"

"Yep." Deeks wouldn't look at Callen, he was staring at the blood dripping down his arm from when his IV had pulled out. "Why are you here?"

Callen wasn't sure how to reply, so he went with the truth. "I didn't want you to be alone."

Deeks snorted. "Why are you really here?"

"To thank you." Since he was going with the truth, Callen figured he might as well continue whether Deeks believed him or not. "You saved my life tonight. I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything." Slowly, Deeks made his way back to the bed, but he just stood there, staring at it. "Did they toss my clothes?"

Callen frowned. "Why? Sam is bringing your go bag in the morning."

Deeks shook his head, shifting to move toward the small closet. "Yeah...I won't be here." He pulled out jeans and sneakers, but no shirt.

"You do know you're risking the wrath of Hetty, right?" Callen thought Deeks should stay, but he wasn't going to stop him from leaving. He wasn't going to be that much of a hypocrite.

"She likes me," Deeks replied, almost pulling off a genuine smile.

Callen knew that there was a special connection between the Detective and Hetty. Sometimes it bothered him a little, as in he found himself a tad bit jealous. But he didn't question it beyond that. "I have a shirt in my go bag."

Surprise glimmered in Deeks' eyes, but he nodded, realizing that Callen was on his side. "Great. I'll go change."

"I'll tell the nurse to get your discharge papers and a bandaid." Callen was already moving for the door, but he paused with his hand on the knob. "I'm taking you back to my place, Deeks. That's the deal."

"I prefer sleeping in a bed," Deeks countered. "I'm too delicate for the floor." He was smirking as he said it, but his eyes were dark, no trace of his usual humor glimmering in them.

But Callen wasn't going to budge on this point. "I have a bed in the guest room. " That said, he headed out. He told the nurse Deeks was signing out AMA and that he was bleeding from the IV. Then he headed for his car. As he rummaged in his go bag for the shirt, he called Hetty. Callen didn't tell her about Deeks nightmare, he simply told her they were going to his place. She told him she understood and she probably did. Probably more than he did. She also asked him to relay the message to Deeks that Monty was taken care of, so not to worry about him.

By the time Callen got back to the room with the shirt, Deeks was dressed in his jeans and sneakers and a hospital robe. He had a bandage on his hand and he was pacing. "Here." Callen handed over the tee.

"Thanks." Deeks shrugged off the robe, revealing a torso full of bruising and white bandages over three spots on his abdomen and ribs.

"You sure about leaving?" Callen asked, as he watched Deeks struggle into the shirt. The tee shirt fit Deeks a bit more snugly, because he was taller and had broader shoulders than Callen, but otherwise it fit perfectly. Callen was grateful when the detective pulled it down over his injuries, hiding them from sight. Also hiding from sight how lean Deeks had become. Too lean.

Deeks nodded. "I'm signed out and ready to go. You can drop me off at my place."

Callen blocked Deeks from the door. "You're staying with me."

"I have to take care of Monty," Deeks countered, looking pissed. "And I don't need a damn babysitter!"

"Monty is fine." Callen locked eyes with the detective. "When I called her to tell her I'm bringing you to my place, she asked me to tell you that Monty is being taken care of. So your options are to stay here, or come home with me."

Exhaustion, anger, confusion and resignation all rippled across Deeks' face, with resignation finally winning out. Exhaustion was a step behind. Nodding, Deeks gave in. "Fine. I'll go to your place. Can we go now?"

Callen opened the door and gestured for Deeks to precede him. The nurse was waiting for them with a wheelchair.

"No way!" Deeks protested.

"Hospital policy," the nurse replied, holding her ground.

Deeks looked to Callen for help.

But Callen shook his head. "You know the drill. You've been here before." He didn't add, but was thinking - more than once. The first time Deeks had been shot to get to the other members of the team. The second time he'd been tortured. Both times he'd saved lives. The first time he'd left his hospital bed to save Kensi. The second time he'd left to save Sam, Michelle and Kensi on a rooftop. Callen had never thanked him. Either time.

Grumbling, Deeks sat down in the wheelchair, unable to swallow a moan of pain. Then they made their way to the exit, where Deeks thanked the nurse before following Callen to his car.

They didn't talk on the drive and Callen was okay with that. He didn't know what to say. Hell, he didn't know what to do once they got to his place. Did they talk? Did Deeks want to talk?

"What's going on, Callen?" Deeks asked, as if reading his mind.

"I'm not sure what you're asking," Callen countered, although he kinda did.

Deeks heaved a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn before replying. "I don't need a keeper, you don't want to be my keeper," he pointed out. "We're not friends. I'm not dying. I do want to go home. To my bed. To sleep. Why are you giving me a hard time about it?"

In a perfect world, Callen would have the perfect reply. But the world wasn't perfect, far from it, and he didn't have an answer to Deeks' question. He couldn't even make one up for himself.

"What do you feel guilty about?" Deeks continued, before Callen could even formulate a reply. "Because I'm guessing that's what this is all about. But you don't have any reason to feel guilty. I'm alive, you're alive...case closed. Please drive me home."

"I'm sorry," Callen muttered, pulling a U turn and heading in the direction of Deeks' apartment. If the man wanted to go home, he would take him home.

Another sigh and Deeks turned his head to stare at Callen. "What are you sorry about?"

Callen resisted the urge to punch something. Like the dashboard. He was so damn frustrated right now he wanted to scream. But he focused on his breathing, calming himself, feeling his tension transferring itself to Deeks. Which was the last thing he wanted. "I have no clue," he replied, honestly. "I don't...I don't why I feel so out of sorts. I don't know why I yelled at you in the hospital. I was mad."

"At me?" Deeks prompted, sounding curious now.

"Yeah...at you." Callen felt beyond frustrated in this moment and it was irritating as hell. But then the truth hit him like a slap in the face. "And...at me. I'm mad at myself."

Deeks remained silent, staring out the windshield, waiting for Callen to continue.

Only he didn't know what to say. Only, maybe he did. "Deeks..."

"That's my name," the detective countered, when Callen let the silence hang between them too long.

"Look, I'm not good with words," Callen continued, and he laughed when Deeks snorted in amusement at his stating of the obvious. "That said, I should have told you a long time ago how much I value you as a part of my team. You do good work, and I don't tell you that. I should."

Deeks tapped him on the forearm, cutting him off. "You just did, okay? And as awesome as this heart to heart has been, I'm all for moving on. Message received and appreciated and we don't have to talk about this ever again. Agreed?"

Relief washed over Callen, and he shot Deeks a look of gratitude. "Agreed. Just...don't do that again."

"Do what again?" Deeks asked, looking confused.

"Don't risk your life for mine." Callen was adamant.

Deeks looked indignant. "You're not stupid, Callen, so don't say stupid things."

It was on the tip of Callen's tongue to rip Deeks a new one, but he realized what the other man was saying. And he could live with that. For now. So he nodded and they continued the drive in mutual silence. Pulling into Deek's apartment complex ten minutes later, Callen stated, "I'm still not leaving you alone. Hetty would skin me alive."

"So you are afraid of her, just like the rest of us," Deeks teased, before opening his door and stepping out.

"Pretty much." Callen got out as well and grabbed his go bag. He followed Deeks inside, taking note of the place. It wasn't messy or overly neat. It was clean, organized, but looked lived in. He dropped his bag by the couch and sat down.

Deeks pointed to the kitchen. "Help yourself. I'm going to take a shower then sleep. Lock the door behind you when you leave."

Callen nodded, ready to let Deeks slip away, but something stopped him. "How long?" he called out, as Deeks turned away from him.

"How long...what?" Deeks countered, looking confused.

"How long have you been having nightmares?" Callen continued. "Did they stop all together, or did they get more intense? Something happen to set them off? Flashback maybe?" He could see each question hit Deeks like a punch to the gut, but he didn't relent. Maybe that made him a hypocrite, but he wanted the detective to be okay. So he wasn't going to back down.

Looking like he wanted to punch something, or maybe punch Callen, Deeks clenched his fists as he moved to confront his team leader. "Let me make this perfectly clear," he growled. "I am fine. Okay?"

Callen held Deeks' glare, not backing down. "You're not fine, Deeks. Even the doctor noticed you're exhausted and underweight. That's not okay. I just want to help you."

"I don't need your help!" Deeks snarled, then he looked startled, as if surprised by his own anger. Turning away from Callen, he paced for a moment, fingers combing through his hair, then rubbing over his face as he fought to calm himself. Finally he turned back to Callen and when he spoke, it was softly and with a hint of desperation. "Look...some days are a bit rough. Some days are good. Today was a good day in my book. Let's just leave it at that."

"Okay." Callen was willing to let it go because he didn't know how to follow through. He wasn't good with talking or emotions, and he was floundering here out of his comfort zone. "Go to bed." He let Deeks off the hook or, rather, let them both off the hook. He'd just make it a point to keep an close eye on the detective in the future.

Deeks didn't argue. He turned and headed down the hallway.

Callen stayed on the couch, listening. He heard a shower running, the sounds of movement, the shower turning off, more movement, then lights out and silence. Another ten minutes and he was positive Deeks was asleep. Only then did Callen turn off the livingroom light and stretch out on the couch.

The smell of pancakes brought him to his feet, reaching for the gun he'd placed on the coffee table. It took a moment to remember where he was and to realize he'd fallen asleep. A glance at his watch and he was susprised to see it was 8 am.

"Do you like syrup on your pancakes?" Deeks called out from the kitchen.

"Sure." Callen rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he joined Deeks.

The detective pointed to the cup on the counter. "Coffee, black. Pancakes will be done in five. You might want to hit the bathroom before eating."

Callen inhaled the scent of coffee beans, took a sip of the perfectly made brew, then smirked at Deeks. "Are you saying I stink?"

"Pretty much." Deeks smiled as he poured batter into the pan. He looked pale, but better than he had last night, although he was moving gingerly.

"Be right back." Callen took the coffee with him, grabbed his go bag, showered in two minutes and was back in the kitchen just as five minutes ticked down. He found a plate of pancakes, saturated in butter and syrup, waiting for him. Callen took a big bite and was impressed. "If you can make a breakfast like this, why do you eat so much junk food?"

Deeks shrugged, swallowing his own mouthful of pancakes before replying. "I'd rather spend the morning surfing."

Callen could understand that. "Fair enough. How do feel?"

"Pretty good." Deeks got up to fill his own coffee mug. "I know Hetty said I'm off for two days, but since I can't surf right now, I'd just as soon go in and catch up on paper work."

"It's your funeral," Callen allowed. He could figure that Deeks didn't want to spend the day wallowing in his own thoughts. Something he could totally relate too.

Relief was evident in the way Deeks body relaxed. "Great. So you can give me a ride in, seeing as how my car is still at work."

Callen nodded. "I can do that." They fell into an easy silence, both immersed in their food. When they were done, Callen told Deeks to get his stuff together while he did the dishes.

For a moment it looked like Deeks might argue, instead he let it go and did as Callen asked. Ten minutes later they were out the door.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Deeks?" Hetty asked, as she greeted them at the door.

"Sore, but more than capable of doing paper work," Deeks replied, appealing to Hetty's love of having reports finished and filed in a timely manner.

Callen watched as Hetty nodded before gliding away. He watched Sam greet Deeks at their desks, then he watched as Nell came down to tell Deeks that he could pick Monty up after work. He then joined his team mates, and found himself rather relieved that they didn't have a case.

During the course of the next two weeks, Callen found himself hitting the beach twice a week. Sometimes he and Deeks went to breakfast after, before parting ways to get ready for work. Sometimes Deeks went off with other surfers. The detective was somewhat of a social butterfly, easily striking up conversations with strangers, something Callen had never been comfortable doing. He envied him that, just a little bit.

Three weeks later, Callen and Deeks partnered up for the day since Sam's kids came down with Chicken Pox and Michelle needed a hand taking care of them. Nothing much happened, until lunch time.

To get a break from the paper work, Callen suggested going out for fish tacos. Deeks countered offered with bacon burgers and Callen couldn't argue with that so they found themselves at a small burger stand. Deeks promised he only went there twice a month, in compliance with good tradecraft.

"Kensi loves the Bacon Jack burger," Deeks offered, pointing to it on the menu.

"I bet." Callen laughed and decided to give it a try. "You miss her," he commented, after Deeks gave his order.

The detective shrugged. "She's my partner." And that's all he needed to say.

Callen understood perfectly. When Deeks had first joined the team, Callen hadn't expected him to fit in with them, or to last with Kensi. They'd certainly had issues. All of them. But something had finally clicked and Deeks had slid into his place like a missing piece of a puzzle. They were stronger with him. It was hard without Kensi here, but she would be back. Callen had to believe that. He knew Deeks refused to believe otherwise.

The burgers came with a pile of French fries and Callen and Deeks dug in. They were as good as Deeks promised. Callen was about to tell him that when the detective suddenly stood up and took off, shouting.

"Deeks!" Callen called after him, only to realize what he was doing. Across the street a woman was waving her arms and screaming.

"Someone stole my purse! Help me! He stole my purse!"

Callen tossed a twenty on the table and ran for his car. He spotted Deeks across the way and running hard after a guy in a jean jacket who was clutching a white purse. Sliding behind the wheel, he took off. With a bit of luck he could cut the perp off.

For the next ten minutes Callen weaved in and out of traffic, trying to keep Deeks and the perp in sight. The purse snatcher was fast, but Deeks was gaining on him. Callen found himself rather impressed with the Detective. Deeks had been holding out on them, always whining about having to run too far or overly exert himself when going after a bad guy.

Just then Callen saw the perp slip into a shoe store. Taking the next right, he knew he could cut him off out the back. Deeks was hot on his heels so Callen had no doubt they'd catch him. He turned down the street, took another right and was moments away from the entrance to the alley way when he heard the blare of a car horn followed by a thud and a scream.

By the time Callen turned onto the street and was out of the car, it was to find Deeks sitting on the perp, blood running down the side of his face, but holding up the white purse in triumph. Running over to him, Callen asked, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I caught a purse snatcher," Deeks replied, rather impudently. He swiped at his face with his shirt sleeve, wincing. "Ignore the blood."

"I hit him, I'm so sorry. I...I didn't see him. I swerved to miss the other guy and ran right into him. I'm so sorry!"

Callen turned to see a young man standing next to a taxi cab, shaking like a leaf.

Deeks interjected before Callen could respond. "I rolled over the hood. No big deal." He waved Callen over. "Don't tell Hetty. Okay?"

"Sure," Callen lied, even as he helped Deeks to his feet. He was about to cuff the purse snatcher but two policeman arrived and Callen was more than happy to turn over the collar. He made Deeks hand over the purse, after giving the cops a description of the owner and where to find her. "I foresee a visit to the ER for you," Callen informed Deeks, as he guided him over to the car.

"No way!" Deeks pulled back, swaying on his feet. "I'm good." He jumped as his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling It out, Deeks read the text and sighed. "Crap."

Callen laughed as he read the message. It was from Nell. Hetty had watched the whole chase via traffic cams. So Deeks was under orders to go to the ER and get checked out. "Let's go." Callen nudged him into the passenger seat. "Nice work. I'll have to let Sam know how fast you are."

Deeks moaned. "Please don't. He'll make me run with him again."

"Better you than me," Callen countered. He reached into the back for a towel, pressing it to Deeks temple.

"Ouch!" Deeks complained, even as he grabbed for it.

Callen grinned, patting Deeks on the shoulder before starting the car. "You did good."

Deeks made a face. "No more Mr. nice guy for me," he muttered, shifting so he could lean his head against the window.

"Sure, Deeks." Callen knew otherwise. He had come to know the detective better, and he knew that it was instinct for Deeks to protect people. Protect and serve, the police motto that the blond took to heart. And Callen wouldn't have it any other way. Deeks had surprised Callen from day one. His laid back persona and beach boy looks didn't tell the real story about him. There were layers to Deeks. Some dark and some light, with lots of shades of gray. But one thing Callen knew for sure, Deeks cared about doing the right thing, for the right reason.

Sometimes the line between the good guys and the bad guys was blurred. Callen knew that better than anyone. But Deeks had followed him into the dark and into the light. He had followed him into hell and back. He was one of them. And Callen would always protect his own.

"Be good at the ER and I'll get you ice cream," Callen promised, smiling.

"Beer," Deeks countered. "I want lots and lots of beer and a bottle of advil."

Callen laughed. "Deal. But don't mention it to Hetty."

Deeks snorted. "Who are you kidding, she already knows. Besides, I'm her favorite." He smirked at Callen, taunting him.

"In your dreams," Callen replied, willing to play along. Although he sensed that they both had a special place in Hetty's heart. And he was okay with that.

THE END


End file.
